Stayingsassy

Your gut is your second brain. Sometimes your gut knows things. Ever feel like in your head you think you are fine, but you either feel like you will vomit, or you have to keep running to the bathroom? Ever have something terrible happen to you and you feel "punched in the gut?"

The day I quit, I woke up terribly hungover and had to go to work. I was sweating buckets and there were tremors in my hands. I struggled to hold it together for my first appointment and I do believe I managed yet again to be the consummate actress where I am dying inside with my heart hammering out of my chest yet smiling and conversing professionally and managing what seemed to me normal interactions.

This was the umpteenth time that I was drenching my clothes at work and trying to hide my shaking hands in front of others. As I drove away I began to feel the relief. One too many times waking up facing my day feeling like that, one too many times I drank to blackout and did things i regretted. The relief grew like warmth in my belly. could this be it?

The text came in when I was driving from my first appointment. It was my husband, asking me who I messaged last night. I told him I didnt know. In reality I remembered snippets of texts I sent out the night before and knew it was bad but didn't remember the extent of it. My husband was dealing with the aftermath of my blackout at work. Holding private meetings with people. Apologizing for me without going too far into the extent of my problem. Later, he would send me more texts, then more conversations, talking about the damage I had done, how dark my drinking was for him and the rest of the family.

But suddenly none of it mattered. The scope of it all, the terrible realities, the forgotten behavior, the chaos I had unleashed. I knew I was done.

I felt it way down in the deepest part of my gut. The worst day of my life felt like the best day. That sounds insane, right? But in my body and my soul it was the best day of my life.

I didn't care if he left me, I didn't care who I had alienated, I didn't care if I lost my job, absolutely nothing meant anything except that the long dark war with myself was over. from that day, even if everything changed: I would finally have myself back.

Did you know, when you quit? do you think that feeling of knowing is necessary to quit? I don't know how to tell people how to quit. I don't know how a person quits for good. I just know, and knew, that I had quit for good.

I didn't mean to get long winded. I'm reflecting a lot lately because summer was prime drinking time and it's my first sober summer in a while. I have a lot of thoughts about how things happened right now.

TheSoberDude

I think about why I quit often. That’s an essential part in healing, and gives us constant reminder on why alcohol can’t be in our lives. I had previously relapsed several times, and my addiction became progressively worse. I have a great career, which I started to hate. I sent drunk texts to whoever and at whatever time of night. I posted embarrassing drunk rants on social media, and my health was detrioting. I wasn’t at rock bottom, but I was near it.

All of my problems in life including high blood pressure, high cholesterol, mishandling stress, anxiety, failed relationships, and alienation were directly caused by alcohol.

I continue to make a list of things created by alcohol, and I scratch them out on a daily basis. I do this to show myself my progresses in sobriety.

Stayingsassy

I don't make actual lists, but sometimes I am hit with the enormity of the consequences I directly contributed to. I stay up a few nights, cry a lot, try to forgive myself and just keep moving forward. What happened, happened. what is, is. Staying sober is always a step forward and a promise to everyone I love.

Snowydelrico

I knew I was done when I figured out having one drink wasn’t possible for me.

Yes I felt good inside when I admitted it.
Like the slate had been wiped clean.

Took me a while to uncover the truth that my Beast was hiding from me.

Glad you found the truth too
Keep rolling sassy

TheSoberDude

What’s done is done. We can’t go back in time and correct the things we did to embarrass or hurt ourselves and others. Frankly, it may take a long time for you to heal, but being sober TODAY is an accomplishment that trumps all past mistakes.

You don’t need to makes lists. That’s just what works for me, but every alcoholic does things differently to keep them on track. No matter how bad it gets, it will pass, and you will make it. Your life can be fixed, and it’s never too late to make things right.

All you can do is worry about the today. Yesterday didn’t matter, tomorrow doesn’t matter, but right now. Right now matters.

Keep strong!

JOHNNIEH63

Hi everyone,

I couldn't manage to get through a week successfully, 3 weeks was my maximum achievement. It's now day 54, and something has definitely altered.
I tend to agree that yesterday doesn't matter in the bigger picture, but then it's also a good incentive to reflect on the carnage and turmoil that's been caused both to yourself and others.

In my own case, I look back sadly at the days at work I was trying my utmost to function normally. Those days seemed to last an eternity, I was terrified that people would know I had an alcohol problem.
Waking up uneasy, knowing vaguely that I'd been active on Social Media posting things I thought were extremely witty, of which my kids would comment "were you drunk yesterday/overnight by any chance Dad ?"

So, going back to the subject - yes I feel in my guts that today is different, and as SD says ... particularly yesterday and to some extent tomorrow doesn't matter. It's today, and today I haven't got any regrets.

All the very best to all,
Johnnie.

MissPerfumado

I think I felt it like a sensation washing over me. First the sweet, cleansing feeling of surrender, then waves of relief.

I was sitting in my doctor's office and she asked me, "How much do you drink?". In that moment I knew I had to tell the truth, and the words came out of my mouth, which had never happened before.

There was relief because there was no more hiding it and no more hiding from it. Stark and white like her office - the truth about me being an alcoholic. Then I made the phone calls that evening, to family, dialling them one by one, the truth tumbling out of my mouth again and again.

We have to go boldly forward ... for this thing really has no reverse. Let go of the regrets and realise we are safe, we made it another day today, and we can't do anything about yesterday.

Cosima11

There was definitely something different about the final time. I'd proclaimed what felt like a million times that I was quitting before, but it was always drenched in a sort of desperation, like "please believe me" (and why should anyone have believed me, I didn't even believe myself). The last time I still said I'm quitting but it was followed by.. and I don't care if you believe me or not.

Then things started falling into place in weird ways.. I found a nice place at a good price, I was able to pay off the remainder of my debt, I won't bore everyone with the details but I can't even take full credit for some of the circumstances that helped lay the foundation through the roughest times in the beginning.

So yeah I struggle with what to say to people sometimes too because it really wasn't an exact science it just sort of "happened". I learned from each failed attempt and eventually it clicked. I can say though looking back.. a lot of the messes in my life that I thought were preventing me from getting sober, were actually caused by my drinking in the first place, so had I done this years ago as soon as I knew I had a problem.. I could've saved myself from a lot of unnecessary and ridiculous unpleasantness.

August252015

As I often do, I concur with Miss Perfumado.

I knew I was done that Feb day, and so far, this has been my first and planned and worked for one time quit.

I do not do it as a promise to anyone else- that's secondary and wonderful to my commitment to ME.

As they say in airplanes, put the mask on you before your child.

And, to gently disagree with your conflicting posts above - I am bad at multiple quoting: one extreme is akin to your early comments to the effect of "let the chips fall where they may" in terms of the consequences of your actions while drunk; the other end of the spectrum is, perhaps, spending nights sobbing and ruing the day.

Finding balance with the past and present, living an action of recovery, and consistently getting away from the "I" as fast as possible....are some important ways I have had a massive change, as tomsteve called our choice to recover on another thread.

FBL

All alone in the ER after a major panic attack, I looked up at the lights and right then and there I surrendered. I finally admitted to myself what I tried to deny for years. I was an alcoholic and if I kept it up, I would die. I decided at that precise moment that I wanted to live. That was June 22, 2009. Ever since that moment, my life has gotten better in every single way. Life still has its ups and downs, but I know that if I stay sober, I can get thru anything life has to throw my way.

GerandTwine

As I reflect back, I think of it as I turned 180 degrees in the opposite direction, and, instead of slaving away very hard to maintain, hide, and suffer all the negative consequences of repeatedly becoming that “drunken me”, the “real me” suddenly became an arch-traitor to that very same strong internal desire. After that last bad drunk, I knew that the “drunken me” had f*cked me up one too many times and that it was OVER, NEVER going to happen again.

Here are three unexpected things I experienced repeatedly after quitting for good that I look back at now as having been curious and interesting.

1 - I first experienced a grief over the loss of that “drunken me”. I had actually developed a drinking way of thinking and behaving that was a sort of life of its own, and I didn’t expect the strength of sorrow I experienced over its death. I’m guessing it was like having a close relative who is rightfully convicted of murder being executed.

2 - Next, the dreams were pretty profound. I had a number of recurring dreams of drinking/smoking pot that gradually faded over the first few years. I very quickly grew to appreciate them and had absolutely no fear as soon as I woke up. They were pretty interesting.

3 - Later, after having been abstinent quite a while, I discovered that there were times when I would suddenly recognize a strong background feeling that I had failed numerous times at keeping my pledge of permanent abstinence; that I was a hypocrite and liar about being a permanent abstainer. As soon as I consciously thought about it for five seconds, I knew it was a not true. This was the wierdest of the three. I interpreted it as a simple time disordering of memories that had become more and more distant into the past. Because before I really did quit for good, I was trying to drink secretly and had lied to others that I had quit. But that background anxiety was very real, that I had been secretly drinking following my true pledge of abstinence, which of course, could not be true.

BDTL

Great read! I had a similar awakening on April 15th of this year. I was sitting in my swing in the backyard and a voice inside said you're done with alcohol. It was crystal clear and it was almost scary in a good way. Anyway after my revelation I told all my golfing buddies I was done with the slugging down beer after beer or shots of liquor etc. I told my wife I was quitting drinking for good. I told my family doctor that I was on to a new chapter in my life that excluded alcohol. I told my VA mental health (PTSD) doc and counselor my decision to quit alcohol. Everyone was happy and I could feel their honest excitement and support. Most of all I could feel the heavy burden of always trying to conceal my drinking gone. I no longer was chained to the fear of someone knowing I was an alcoholic. I attend AA meetings proudly and love the support I receive from my brothers and sisters. Life is good and I'm free at last!

edit to add: Also I weighed 226 last November and I'm down to 206 this morning with a goal of 195. At 6'2" I will be a lean mean healthy machine

Stayingsassy

I still put my sobriety above all else and "let the chips fall where they may," even when I have periods of sadness or grief over my alcoholism, still stands.

that's part of it for me, the grieving without drinking, celebrating without drinking, living without drinking.

I find that when I openly feel my sadness, afterward I am cleansed. Each period of grieving brings me up another level of acceptance.

Sleepless nights and tears spent sober actually serve a purpose for me if afterward, I feel stronger knowing I am that seaworthy.

Thanks for all your thoughts.

It was originally meant to be a post about the knowing, before my emotions ruled . I am still an emotional woman and proud of it! I'm still curious in getting responses about knowing on the first day. That was what was different for me about this last time.

Stayingsassy

Interesting your thoughts on the "real" vs the "lies.". I think that points to the cementing of the nondrinker identity.

I can see some here relapsing and clearly still thinking "I am a drinker.". I talked with a friend once who said when I asked her if she would ever quit, "that ship has sailed.". so in essence " i have always gone back to drinking because I am a drinker. "

Self talk.

Bird615

Yes, both times I quit--the first time and then after my relapse many years later--it was the same thing. Like a lightbulb went off and I just knew I was done. I just could not do it anymore.

Before that, there were a lot of attempts to stop but never quite that same feeling. I think those attempts were working to get me to that place where I could just quit fighting and finally accept that I couldn't do it.

Fusion

Hi Sassy, I knew on the first day, that my drinking days were history, no matter what feelings or emotions flooded through me. I had a multi-year addiction, swore off drinking every morning, drank later that day, eventually became so physically addicted I’d drink in the morning for years, to stop withdrawals. I made repeated false promises that I’d stop, to myself and family.

It’s difficult to explain precisely what events culminated in the final decision never to drink again. I believe it was empowerment, by realising that nobody but myself could amuse me raise a drink to my lips and swallow. Plus the acceptance that a couple of drinks (like a social drinker) was forever beyond my grasp and there was no point trying, every moderation experiment had failed. Heck, I couldn’t even taper to prevent life-threatening withdrawals. I reflected on the future and realised that my life would continue to spiral down the alcohol pit, and I could die.

I further deliberated and reached the decision that I was a victim of my Addictive Voice, that craving, feeling, urge that a drink was required to deal with a feelings (numb a bad feeling, heighten a good feeling, bored, stressed and on and on, any feeling was it’s excuse to drink). I became angry and determined that I’d no longer be a victim of my AV and would stop acquiescing to it.

I woke up one morning (another prior-day failed taper with a view to ameliorating withdrawals). I felt it in my gut, I refused to take this AV controlled self-abusive way of life, with its pity-parties and self-denigration. I decided to stop drinking, forever, that day.

I made a pledge to myself, that I will never (now) drink again and I will never change my mind, no matter what. And never wasn’t daunting because I viewed it as now, I only physically drank in the ‘now’, life is just a series of nows.

Subsequently, I felt something in my gut, it was physical and it felt, it’s hard to explain, but maybe relief is an accurate word. Like the feeling of strain on the body, then when the strain dissipates, that relief washes over.

I suffered a bereavement recently, the old habituated neuronal loops fired up, my AV, suggested a drink to cope with my grief. But it mattered not, they were just inconsequential fleeting thoughts, because I knew on that first day, that I would never drink again, something shifted and I took back control, from the addicted part of my brain.

On reflection, it was a mental awakening, I seized back control from my brains pre-programmed desire for alcohol. Yet it felt almost physical, emotional, hard to find words, acceptance, relief, it laid a line in the sand, over which I know in my heart, brain and gut, I’ll never cross again.

lessgravity

Thank you for the post.

I can relate to what you describe re: feeling two ways about the past, feeling both grief and at the same time, accepting the falling of the chips.

But regarding The Knowing - it's interesting to consider. I don't have the same specific experience that you did - where you can actually recall where you were when you finally knew it was all over. For me I think the feelings of surety and acceptance took place over days after my last binge, where I just knew it was finally done for me. Perhaps it just had been building and building for years and the scales finally tipped. In a way it just feels like a path has finally be cleared that I am walking on - a sober path.

Stayingsassy

Tatsy: yes that's why I mention grief. You getting through a terrible time without drinking isn't strength of will, it's simply an acknowledgement that you aren't the person who drinks to cope anymore. I'm so sorry for your loss.I

Less, yep I think NOT feeling sadness is almost a denial of feelings about the past, especially considering the seriousness of what we went through.

SoberCAH

For me, the following happened.

First, I asked God for help. I have to admit that 35 days inpatient wasn't what I had in mind, but it was certainly what I needed.

Second, I came to the (extremely obvious) realization that I would have to seek professional help to get and stay sober.

Third, I went to see an addiction doctor and, for the first time in my life, I was honest about my drinking.

Fourth, I matriculated into an excellent treatment center.

Fifth, I have done what they told me ever since.

I have to admit that a feeling of relief washed over me during the above process.

It was a feeling that I never experienced while laboring under the burden of chronic alcoholism.

Thanks for bringing this to my attention.

BullDog777

For me, everything sort of happened without me being very aware of what was going on...at least for the first week. I knew I was in the hospital, I knew I was in bad shape, but I don't think I was processing much until I really regained full consciousness and was out of ICU.

To this day....i barely remember what happened. I know what I've been told, but I really can't recall most of it. It's just bits and pieces.

So...I think it really sunk in when the doctors came in and sat down and told me that I could recover. I thought I was too far gone.

I wanted more than anything to be here for my daughter.

After that, I just went to work on my sobriety. It was about putting one foot in front of the other and addressing one thing at a time.
In a lot of ways I went through the motions and became methodical about recovery. If I do this...then this will happen. Just simple logic and F the rest.

I think the moment where i said to myself, "i'm gonna recover from this....i'm done...i'm never drinking again" was when the dr came back after my 6 month checkup and told me i had a clean bill of health.

Some people...they'd say, well.......maybe a few more then. Nope that was my reprieve. I did the work and I was given such a beautiful gift, i'd be damned if i'd ever take it for granted again.

the rest is history.